


Let Me Love You More

by silveritas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU after season 3, Alpha Derek Hale, Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Everyone Is Alive, Evidence of Physical Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Hale-McCall Pack, Human Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Just a smidge of Derek pining, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Oral Sex, POV Derek Hale, Porn With Plot, Sexy Times, Sneaking Around, Stiles is dating someone else at the beginning but ends up with Derek, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, all characters are adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4663203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveritas/pseuds/silveritas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been running with the pack for so long now that bumps and bruises are a given.</p>
<p>Derek doesn’t pay it much mind until the night Stiles runs right into him in the kitchen at the loft, Derek’s hand shooting out and gripping his bicep to keep him upright.  The hiss of pain Stiles lets out is a sound Derek never wants to hear again.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or Stiles is in a bad relationship and Derek finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Love You More

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh... I wrote Sterek? This is all because someone I know started posting TW stuff to twitter, which led me to their tumblr, which got me hooked on tumblr, which had so much TW on my dash that I ended up watching TW and loving TW and loving Derek and Stiles and now they're my OTP forever and I'm in up to my eyeballs and none of it's my fault. I've read so much good Sterek fic out there that I was a little bit hesitant about sharing my own, but I figure it's good for me to venture out from SPN/J2 stuff and, you know, expand my horizons and stuff. Because Sterek. Now I'm all pissed off every time I watch the show because it SHOULD be canon, like screaming from the rooftops canon, but people are stupid. So here we are. With fic. To fix things. Or to make up entirely new things. AUs are my jam. Not gonna lie, I could(and do) read them all day. 
> 
> Anywho, possible triggers could include references and talk of domestic abuse.

It’s not obvious at first.

Stiles has been running with the pack for so long now that bumps and bruises are a given.

Derek doesn’t pay it much mind until the night Stiles runs right into him in the kitchen at the loft, Derek’s hand shooting out and gripping his bicep to keep him upright. The hiss of pain Stiles lets out is a sound Derek never wants to hear again.

“What’s this?” Derek asks, not letting go even though Stiles is trying to pull away.

“It’s nothing,” Stiles says defensively, far too defensively for Derek to not suspect something is up. “I just… I tripped and hit the edge of the counter a couple of days ago. It’s no big deal.”

Derek lets him go, but catches the shape of two fingers under the sleeve of his t-shirt later that night when everyone is joking and having a good time, and he can't stop thinking about it for days.

The next bruise he finds is because he walks into the kitchen right when Stiles is washing his hands. His sleeves are shoved up to his elbows and purple and red ring both wrists. Stiles laughs it off as his boyfriend being into some kinky stuff, but Derek hears the lie in his heartbeat plain as day.

He doesn’t call him on it.

The third time he becomes aware of an injury is the first time he’s certain something bad is happening.

Stiles’s breathing has been off all night. It’s not unusual for his body rhythms to be different than that of the other wolves, and even that of the other humans, but it’s out of sync even for Stiles. His heart is beating faster than usual, and his breaths are shallower, like it hurts to draw in air.

He finds Stiles in the bathroom after most of the pack has gone home. It’s clear he surprises Stiles in the way he pulls his shirt down and immediately starts rambling up a storm of bullshit that they both know Derek won’t believe.

“Sit,” Derek commands, lowering the lid to the toilet and guiding him in front of it.

“Derek, come on, man,” Stiles says. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Derek states. “Sit.”

They hold a staring contest for a few tense seconds before Stiles lets out the small breath he’d been holding and sits down. Stiles won’t meet his eyes as Derek goes to the hem of his shirt, but he nods his consent anyway, turning his head to the side as Derek lifts his shirt up to get a look at his side.

“I’m a total klutz, you know?” Stiles says with a laugh that he doesn’t mean. “Tripped over my own feet and fell on a doorknob of all things. Pretty spectacular bruise, am I right?”

Lie.

Derek doesn't even need to listen to his heart to know that much. He just needs his eyes.

There’s a clear outline of someone’s fist in Stiles’s ribs.

There’s so much he wants to say, wants to ask, like how Stiles could end up in a relationship like this, why doesn’t he leave, why doesn’t he fight back, but it’s not his place. Stiles is an adult now, and he can make his own decisions. Derek doesn’t know anything about Stiles’s relationship, other than the things he’s not meant to have seen, and he gets the impression that if he were to say something, then Stiles might start avoiding him. Derek wouldn’t say they’re best friends, but they’re closer than either of them ever thought they’d be, and he’d rather be able to keep an eye on Stiles than drive him away.

Stiles sucks in a breath and then lets out a sharp, bitten-off cry of pain when Derek lays his hand on his side as gently as he can. It makes Derek hurt to see Stiles in pain like this, and he wants nothing more than to take it all away. The physical pain is easy, he pulls it away from Stiles, watching it curl in black lines up his arm. He can take it all, he knows. There’s not pain short of a mortal wound that Derek couldn't and wouldn’t withstand for Stiles, for any of the pack, but the emotional pain he can’t. He can’t and Stiles won’t let him. The lies he’s told Derek are practiced. This has been going on for a while, and that thought makes him angry.

He tapes Stiles’s ribs after he’s done drawing the pain away, and then he rights Stiles’s shirt.

“Thanks,” Stiles says, giving Derek an easy, empty smile with tired eyes.

“Anytime,” Derek says and then gives him a serious look.

He knows Stiles can take care of himself, he just hopes Stiles knows that Derek doesn't mind taking care of him too.

***

The next time he sees Stiles is a surprise. It’s a little after midnight a few weeks after his ribs have healed, and there Stiles is, fidgeting outside of his door with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head.

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” he says as he steps past Derek into the loft.

“No,” Derek says, shutting the door and fixing Stiles with a stern look.

“Fine,” Stiles shrugs and then lowers his hood.

Derek’s whole body softens at the angry red mark on Stiles’s jaw. Derek thinks he just might say something if Stiles tries to pass this off as an accident or clumsiness again.

“I tripped over my shoes on the way to the bathroom tonight,” Stiles says. “Hit the edge of the dresser.”

“Why are you here?” Derek asks, daring Stiles to keep lying to him, to tell him that the only reason he's shown up at Derek's loft with a bruise forming on his face is that he tripped and face-planted into a piece of furniture, his boyfriend is out of town, and Stiles and doesn't want to bother Scott.

“I thought you could, maybe… never mind. This was a bad idea,” Stiles mutters instead, pulling his hood back up and making for the door.

Derek catches him by the arm and stops him.

“Finish that sentence,” Derek says. “You thought I could…”

“I thought you could do the pain-sucky thing,” Stiles sighs and then Derek hears his heart beat faster as his scent changes, tinged with anxiety. “And then I was hoping I could crash here for a bit.”

Derek looks at him for a long time, Stiles holding his gaze evenly, and then he nods, guiding Stiles to the couch and sitting them both down. Stiles pulls his hood back again and flinches when Derek reaches out to touch him. He almost says something again, questions and demands always on the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back. Now is not the time after all, he decides.

He moves slower this time, more deliberately, telegraphing every move so Stiles knows where he is and what he’s doing. It makes something inside of him break for Stiles.

He draws Stiles’s pain out again, watching as his face relaxes and the tension drains from his body. He’s obviously exhausted, and Derek wishes he could do more for that, but instead, he guides Stiles to his bed and helps him get comfortable before turning to the couch for a fitful night of sleep.

***

The first time they kiss, Derek thinks it’s because Stiles is running too high emotionally to be able to deal with things. Derek’s just drawn the pain from a bruise on Stiles’s hip and then Stiles is in his lap, their mouths pressed together in a way Derek never dreamed of before.

The second and third time they kiss, he knows better.

The fourth time they kiss, it ends with Stiles’s hand down Derek’s pants, jerking him off to completion while whispering the filthiest things Derek’s ever heard in his ears.

The fifth time, Derek lets Stiles pin him to the wall and suck him off with a finger shoved up his ass, panting Stiles’s name and knowing that this thing they’ve started is going to destroy him.

They fuck for the first time after the next pack get together.

It’s rushed, both of them eager and in too much of a hurry to get fully undressed. They tumble into Derek’s bed and Stiles shoves a packet of lube into his hand, telling Derek to get him ready. He opens Stiles up with as much care as Stiles allows and then Stiles is sinking down onto his cock, riding him hard as they bite at each other’s lips and moan each other’s names.

When Stiles comes, Derek thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. They lay together afterward, both finally stripped naked, and Stiles tells him his boyfriend is out of town for the weekend. Derek doesn’t jump for joy, but he does tighten his hold on Stiles and make some vague comment about crashing at the loft that Stiles jumps at like it’s exactly what he was hoping to hear.

***

Isaac and Scott have both started giving them looks, but Derek’s pretty sure neither of them have completely figured out that he and Stiles are carrying on a torrid affair. He’s also pretty certain that no one else, not even the Sheriff, knows about Stiles’s home life.

That is until Scott comes in to a pack get together and he and Stiles won’t even look at each other.

“Scott just doesn’t like the boyfriend,” Stiles shrugs when Derek asks about it later, which should alarm him, should make Derek ask why his best friend suddenly doesn't like the man he's been dating for over two years, make Stiles admit it out loud, but somehow it doesn't.

And hearing Stiles talk about his boyfriend, a man whose name Derek doesn’t even know, while he’s thinking about fucking him against the counter should make him think twice, but it doesn't.

It doesn’t stop him from pushing Stiles against the refrigerator and shoving his hands up Stiles’s shirt as he kisses him deep. It’s hard not to do those things when Stiles arches into him and gives these tiny, delicious whimpers. Derek doesn’t find any bruises that evening, and they stay in bed and fuck all night.

When Stiles sneaks out of bed in the dark grey of early morning, Derek finds himself aching for him, wanting to wake up together and lay in bed snuggling and sharing tender kisses and private smiles.

Stiles gives him a soft kiss and walks out quietly.

And the tight feeling in his chest and the sense of loss afterward tell Derek all he needs to know.

He’s falling in love with Stiles, and he’s completely fucked.

***

It all blows up less than three months after it began.

Stiles shows up and it’s barely been dark for thirty minutes. He’s got a splotch of purple on his jaw again and Derek finally hits his breaking point.

"Why do you stay with him?" Derek asks, taking Stiles's face gently in his hands, turning him so he can see the bruise that's at least a day old. He can smell the old fear, the resignation on Stiles, and he picks up on the slight uptick in his heart rate as he narrows his eyes at Derek.

Neither of them have ever acknowledged to the other the nature of Stiles’s injuries. Derek has been letting Stiles play out his little fantasy, but he’s done watching Stiles get hurt. He can’t do it anymore. He loves him too much.

"What do you want me to do?" Stiles scoffs, pulling out of Derek's grasp. "Leave him for you?"

"No," Derek says. "I want you to leave him for you."

Stiles seems at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing several times before he settles for glaring at Derek instead.

“Say something,” Derek says after three solid minutes of silence have passed.

“How dare you,” Stiles glowers. “You know nothing of what’s going on between me and--“

“Don’t lie to me!” Derek snaps. “No more lying, please. I can’t take it. You’re right. I don’t know what’s going on between you and him. I just know what’s right in front of me.”

“And you think that, what? He hits me? Ties me up and beats me? Shoves me into things to make himself feel more like a man?” Stiles snarls, getting right in Derek’s face, something not even his bravest beta would dare attempt. “You know nothing.”

Stiles turns to go and Derek reaches for him, fingers curling gently around Stiles’s wrist.

“Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me he doesn't,” he says, pleading, and Stiles's deafening silence is answer enough. “You don’t have to do it, you don’t have to take it. You’re strong, I know you are, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Let me go,” Stiles says, voice flat and eyes turned away, refusing to look at Derek.

It hurts more than anything, but Derek lets him go and watches him walk out of the loft, afraid that he’ll never see Stiles again, but more terrified of what he'll find if he does. Stiles has been with this man for years and has given Derek no reason to believe he'll leave, not even when this man hurts him and makes him feel like he has to lie about it afterward.

Emotionally drained and unable to get his mind to focus on anything but crashing and burning with Stiles, Derek goes to bed early that night. It's not like he has anything else to do and everything in the loft reminds him of Stiles.

He sleeps fitfully and is awoken by a pounding on his door. When he looks at his phone for the time, he almost rolls over and goes back to sleep. 3 am is simultaneously entirely too late and too early for visitors. But then he catches the faint sound of a familiar heartbeat and is out of bed and moving for the door before he knows it, thoughts racing with things he wants to say.

When he slides the door to the loft open, the words he had ready die in his throat. Stiles is standing there looking smaller than Derek's ever seen him with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He smells hurt and terrified and so sad that it makes Derek's heart clench in his chest.

"You once told me that I could come here anytime I needed to," Stiles says softly. "Does that offer still stand?"

"Always," Derek replies, stepping aside to let Stiles in.

Derek watches as Stiles moves around the loft like it's his first time there. Something has changed since he last saw Stiles, something big.

"I left him," Stiles says as he drops his bag next to the bed and sinks down. "I told him I didn't love him anymore and that I was leaving, and he--"

Derek remains silent, letting Stiles tell him what he wants in his own time. There's pain radiating from Stiles and it takes all Derek has not to go to him. He's not sure Stiles would react well right now and he doesn't want to shatter what feels like a fragile and defining moment between them.

"He hit me again," Stiles admits, saying it out loud for the first time and that’s when Derek notices the red mark on the other side of Stiles’s face. It makes his blood boil. "And I just got so angry because I knew I didn't deserve it and I didn't want to be that person anymore. So I hit him back. Derek, I put him on the ground, and then I freaked out and took off and just left him there."

His scent changes as adrenaline surges through his system. Derek hears the change in Stiles's heartbeat and spots the trembling in his hands and is unable to stay away any longer.

He's across the room and on his knees before Stiles in seconds, holding his shaking, cold hands in his own as he looks up at Stiles.

"I couldn't think of anywhere else to go," Stiles admits shakily. "I'm not even sure I was thinking at all. I just got in the car and drove and the next thing I knew I was in front of your building."

"I'm glad you came here," Derek says and Stiles's eyes lift to his, his heartbeat calming and the warmth slowly coming back to his hands as Derek continues to hold on.

"Me too," Stiles says, his scent becoming sweeter, losing the sour edge of anxiety and sadness.

"You're safe here," Derek has to say, needs Stiles to hear it.

"I know, Alpha," Stiles says and Derek flashes his eyes red at the title falling so reverently from Stiles's lips.

Derek's heart stutters in his chest again and his breath catches in his throat. Stiles is looking at him with such open trust, trusting Derek to not hurt him, to protect him instead. Derek doesn't know what he did to deserve Stiles's faith in him, but he'll do everything in his power to not let Stiles down.

Stiles turns his head and bares his throat to Derek, deferring to him and Derek's helpless to do anything but accept. Stiles's submission is heady, powerful to Derek. He knows this is Stiles asking forgiveness, asking to be allowed to be close to him again. Like Derek would ever turn him away.

Derek touches the back of his fingers to Stiles's neck gently, feeling him swallow, and then he turns his palm over, cupping his hand over Stiles's pulse in an intimate caress. He knows Stiles knows that this touch is different, different than the one he gives the rest of the pack, different than how he's touched Stiles before. Stiles turns into Derek's touch, kissing his palm and then lifting his eyes to Derek's again, dark and full of intent.

But Derek can't do that, he can't let Stiles do that now, not when his emotions are all over the place, not when he's confused and his whole life has been turned on its head. This isn’t like their first kiss. This is something else entirely.

"Thank you," Stiles says softly, hands coming up to hold Derek's hand close to his face, nuzzling against Derek's wrist, and Derek knows Stiles knows about scent marking, knows that he's mingling their scents by doing that.

Derek knows what's being offered and he wants it so bad, but not tonight.

"I want you to understand that there is nothing I would like more than to make you mine right now," Derek says and his voice sounds rough to his own ears.

"But not tonight," Stiles says, echoing Derek’s thoughts, and Derek shakes his head.

"I think we should go to bed, and we'll talk in the morning," Derek suggests and Stiles nods his head.

"You're probably right," Stiles sighs. "But whatever you might think, I'm not making this decision lightly. This isn't some heat-of-the-moment thing I'm going to regret. When I still choose you tomorrow, I want you to know it's not because I'm grateful to you because you sheltered me or comforted me or showed restraint and didn't take advantage of me when you thought I was emotionally vulnerable. When I choose you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, I want you to know it's because it's what I want, what I've wanted all along, and that I know the difference between being grateful and being in love."

"Stiles," Derek gasps his name as hope blossoms fierce and uncontrollable in his chest.

"Tomorrow, okay?" Stiles says with a soft smile. "I'll let you get away with treating me like I'm delicate this one last time, and then we're going to have a talk about how we're going to move forward."

"I can do that," Derek returns his smile and lets Stiles pull him back into bed.

He settles into bed and Stiles curls around him and is asleep within minutes, Derek following him into unconsciousness, feeling lighter than he has in months.

***

Derek wakes to the warm feeling of Stiles pressed against him. It's enough to make him smile in the morning light. He watches Stiles as he breathes evenly, his face relaxed in sleep. In the light filtering in, Stiles's bruises look worse, brighter, and Derek really wishes he could break that man's arms.

"You're growling," Stiles mumbles as he cracks his dark amber eyes open to look at Derek.

"Sorry," Derek mutters. "Does it hurt?" He asks, brushing his fingertips lightly over the biggest, darkest bruise.

"A little," Stiles admits and Derek settles his palm over it, pulling the pain away.

Stiles's dark eyes track the black lines as they move up Derek's arm, his whole body relaxing as Derek finishes.

"So, what's the plan for this morning?" Stiles asks, reaching over and brushing his fingers through Derek's hair.

Derek closes his eyes and melts into the touch. He can't say how many mornings he's laid in bed alone, dreaming about waking up next to Stiles, watching him sleep and come to slowly, watching him bump around the apartment sleepily and then smiling when Derek produces his favorite cereal for him and a big cup of coffee with loads of cream and sugar.

He's about to go in for a good morning kiss when there's a knock at the door to the loft.

"Did you tell anyone you were here?" Derek asks.

"No," Stiles shakes his head. "I take it you're not expecting company?"

"No one but you," Derek says. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He gets out of bed, not bothering to pull on a shirt as he pads over to the door. He listens and only hears one erratic heartbeat, and it's not one he recognizes. When he slides the door open a crack, he's met with a human he's never seen before.

But he knows that scent. It's the scent that his wolf wants to erase from Stiles's skin forever, and it makes his wolf rage that he would dare to come to Derek's territory.

"Can I help you?" Derek practically snarls at the man who's caused Stiles so much hurt and pain. It’s hard to see what Stiles saw in him. He’s shorter, stocky with some decent muscling, but aside from some startlingly blue eyes, there’s nothing about this man that strikes him as worthy of attention.

"So you're who he's been fucking behind my back," the man says with a sneer. And well, Derek did come to the door in naught but his black boxer briefs.

"And?" Derek asks, reining the wolf back as well as his deep, strong urge to throat punch the guy.

"I'm looking for Stiles," the man says impatiently.

Derek assess him coolly, taking in the shiner Stiles laid on him and the disheveled state of his clothes. It's like he slept in them. He looks nervous and twitchy and there's the burn of anger beneath everything, tainting his scent.

"What led you here?" Derek asks.

"I tracked his phone," the man replies quickly, an irritated edge to his clipped words.

"Creepy," Derek comments. "And controlling."

"That's none of your fucking business," the man spits. "I know he's here. Tell him I just want to talk."

"Stiles is unavailable," Derek says evenly.

"Let me see him," the man demands and Derek crosses his arms over his chest, filling up more of the door as he pulls himself up to his full height.

"No," Derek says.

"Look, man, we had a disagreement," the man says and clearly wants to say more but Derek cuts him off.

"I can tell," Derek says, eyes flicking to the man's black eye and busted lip. "Did it feel good?"

"Excuse me?" the man asks, face scrunching as he gives Derek a dirty look.

"When Stiles finally laid your pathetic ass out, did it feel good?" Derek clarifies.

"Of course it didn't!" the man scoffs. "He sucker punched me like a little bitch and then ran away. It fucking hurt and it pissed me off and he's going to answer for it."

"But you must think Stiles likes it," Derek says casually.

"What are you talking about?" the man asks, narrowing his eyes at Derek.

"I'm not blind," Derek states.

"Then you know how clumsy he is," the man returns.

"I know he's a spaz, but he's far from clumsy," Derek says, taking a step forward. "I'm going to say this once and I'm going to make myself very clear so there's no misunderstanding. If I ever so much as catch your scent anywhere near Stiles, I'll rip your throat out with my teeth."

"With your teeth? Scent? What kind of psycho are you?" the man asks, giving Derek a confused look as his heart starts pounding in Derek's ears and his scent sours with fear.

"The kind that can back it up," Derek practically growls, showing his fangs and flashing his red eyes.

"What the fuck," the man mutters as his eyes widen and he suddenly can't get out of the building fast enough.

When Derek steps back into the loft and shuts the door, he finds Stiles leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Well," he says casually. "That was dramatic."

Derek just gapes at him, absolutely nothing coming to him to say. He had no idea Stiles had been so close. He'd been far too focused on making Stiles's ex go away.

"I can hear you freaking out from over here," Stiles rolls his eyes as he shoves away from the wall and goes to Derek. "Relax. I know I should be pissed and say something about letting me fight my own battles, but watching you go all Alpha on David made me all tingly in my naughty bits."

"His name is David?" Derek asks.

"That's what you take away from all that?" Stiles groans. "Really? Not that showing him your wolf face and scaring him off made me all hot for you?"

"I take it he doesn't know about werewolves," Derek says.

"Not before today," Stiles shakes his head. "I had thought about telling him a couple of times. Part of me thought if I showed him what my friends really were, it might make him think twice about hitting me."

"Why didn't you?"

"In the end, I guess I knew I was going to leave him and it wouldn't matter," Stiles says.

"What took you so long?" Derek asks and Stiles purses his lips together, his scent changing subtly.

"I was afraid of change," Stiles says eventually. "He wasn't always like that, and I'd been with him for two years already. I guess I wanted to hope that he'd be the man he was when we started dating again. It seemed easier than starting over. At least, it did at the time."

"What changed?"

"You," Stiles admits, blowing out a harsh breath and fixing those deep, dark eyes on Derek again. "You showed me things I'd forgotten. You made me remember who I was before this shit storm with David, and you stood by me even when I wasn't myself, when I was what I let him make me. You gave me the courage to say enough and to end things with him.

"Derek, I didn't start having an affair with you because of some unresolved teenage crush or a desire to forget my home life," Stiles says. "I did it and continued to do it because you treated me like I meant something to you, and you didn't judge me or pity me when you found the bruises."

"I pushed you to leave him, though," Derek says. "It wasn't my decision to make."

"I needed to hear it," Stiles admits. "When you told me to leave David for me, something just went off in my head. It felt as though you believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Maybe you didn't mean it like that, but you never acted like I was some victim that needed protecting. You always treated me like I knew what I was doing and like I could make my own choices.

"Leaving David was my choice, just like staying with him for so long was my choice," Stiles takes a deep breath and pushes right into Derek's space, close enough that he can feel the heat from Stiles's body. "Being with you was my choice, and staying with you is what I'm choosing now. I told you I'd stand by what I said last night. How about you?"

Instead of answering, Derek takes Stiles's face in his hands and smashes their mouths together. Stiles's arms go around his neck as he lines their bodies up, pressing in as close as he can get. Derek lets out a growl and lifts Stiles with his hands on his ass, both of Stiles's legs wrapping around Derek's waist as he walks them to the bed, depositing Stiles in the middle and following him down.

Stiles grins against Derek's lips as he kisses him again, flexing his hips down into Stiles's, pulling a groan from the younger man as their erections brush against each other. There's a frantic edge to their lovemaking that hasn't been there before.

Before, it felt forbidden, like they were going to get caught at any time. Derek's fairly certain that at least Isaac and Scott know about the affair, but neither have said anything. But now, though, it feels like Stiles is trying to climb inside of Derek and all Derek wants to do, can even think about, is pinning Stiles down, fucking into him hard and deep, and then sinking his teeth into the soft skin of his neck, marking Stiles as his mate.

"I want that too," Stiles says and that's when Derek realizes he's been thinking out loud. It momentarily stops him because it's such a Stiles thing to do that he can hardly believe it happened, but then Stiles is pulling him down again and slipping his tongue into Derek's mouth and Derek can't seem to care after that.

Derek's hands find Stiles's and he laces their fingers together, bringing their hands to either side of Stiles's head and leaning his weight into them. Stiles seems to like that, moaning and whimpering and locking his legs around Derek's hips as he grinds up against him. Derek rolls his hips down into Stiles, grunting at the feeling of them rubbing together, and Stiles breaks away from his mouth, tilting his head back, Derek's name slipping from his mouth on a moan.

Derek slides his lips down Stiles's jaw to his neck, settling on his pulse and sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and his wolf likes that. Now everyone will see it and know that he’s taken. Stiles arches up, whimpering and gasping Derek's name, begging him with everything he has for more.

Stiles's scent sharpens, growing heavier and full of want and need and it's all aimed at Derek.

Derek pulls his hands free and shoves Stiles's shirt up to his armpits before sliding down his body, running his nose over the hot skin of Stiles's chest.

"Derek," Stiles groans, sinking his fingers into Derek's hair, stomach clenching and quivering beneath Derek as he sticks his tongue out to taste Stiles.

Derek pulls the most amazing sounds from Stiles as he gets reacquainted with his body, licking, kissing, sucking everything he can reach. When he takes one of Stiles's flat nipples in his mouth and rolls it gently with his teeth, Stiles cries out like he's been shocked and arches against Derek as his fingers tighten in Derek's hair.

He wants to take his time, doesn't want to rush this, but with the way Stiles is reacting, so sensitive to his every touch, Derek doesn't think taking things slow is in the cards. But he's still got to prep Stiles, he’s got to do right by him even if Stiles is pushing them faster and faster. He moves further down, kissing his way down Stiles's flat stomach and further as he pulls his boxers down and off while Stiles takes care of his shirt.

Derek watches, eyes locked with Stiles's as he takes himself in hand, giving his hard cock a few strokes and spreading his legs for Derek.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?" Derek asks, voice a low rumble as he slides his hands up the insides of Stiles's thighs.

"I've got some idea," Stiles says, tilting the corner of his mouth up as he drags his eyes down to where Derek is hard and heavy in his black boxer briefs.

Derek lowers himself back down over Stiles, kissing him softly and gently before replacing Stiles's hand on his cock with his mouth. He swallows Stiles down as far as he can, riding it out as Stiles's hips jerk up, sliding his cock another inch into Derek's throat. He pats himself on the back for not gagging and then puts an arm across Stiles's hips to hold him still.

Stiles clenches his hands into the sheets by his sides and moves against Derek's firm hold, praising Derek and his mouth with every suck and bob and swirl of tongue. Derek pulls off with a soft pop, taking Stiles's hips in his hands as he moves lower, licking a broad stripe across Stiles's hole.

"Oh god, oh fuck, Derek," Stiles pants, a hand going back in his hair and hanging on like it's the only thing keeping him from flying away.

Derek grunts in response and jabs his tongue inside, pushing and licking until he feels Stiles begin to relax for him. He sucks a finger into his mouth, getting it good and wet before pulling off and sliding it into Stiles.

"Yes, fuck, more, please more," Stiles babbles, pushing himself down on Derek's finger a few times.

Stiles stretches, moving around the bed, and Derek hears the drawer of the nightstand open, and then the bottle of lube they've been using lands on Stiles's stomach, right in front of Derek. He takes the lube with his free hand and pops it open, coating two fingers generously and pressing them in, seeming to rob Stiles of his ability to speak. Instead, he just whines and grinds himself against Derek's hand. Derek twists and scissors his fingers, watching Stiles's face, his slack jaw, his closed eyes, and then he adds a third finger.

"I'm good," Stiles insists, voice raspy but quiet, hands pushing at Derek.

"You're sure?" Derek asks.

"Yeah," Stiles answers.

"About everything?" Derek asks, raising his eyes to meet Stiles's. "About staying with me and being my mate? Because if that's what you want you need to be one hundred percent sure, because it's forever. If I forge a bond with you right now, it will never go away."

"I'll be yours forever?" Stiles asks, leaning up on his elbows, heart beating fast as Derek listens to it and gets, really gets that Stiles wants this.

"And I'll be yours forever," Derek nods, heart hammering in his chest.

"Then do it," Stiles says, closing the gap between them and kissing Derek. "I want it."

“There’s one more thing you should know,” Derek says as he practically tears his underwear from his body and settles in between Stiles’s thighs, stroking himself a few times and slicking his cock up with more lube.

“What’s that?” Stiles asks, running his foot up Derek’s side.

“If we mate, if I give you the mating bite, I’m going to knot you,” Derek says, feeling heat flood his body at the thought of tying Stiles like that. He wants it so much.

“Jesus fuck, Derek, you can’t just say something like that,” Stiles chokes out, his heart beating out a rapid staccato that Derek can’t interpret. “You almost made me cream myself.”

“So… you approve?” Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Very much so,” Stiles nods emphatically. “I very much approve. Now get in me and claim me, Alpha.”

Derek feels his eyes burn red and he has to squeeze the base of his cock to hold himself off. Damn Stiles and knowing exactly what buttons to push to have him going off like a teenager. He takes a few deep breaths, which may or may not be a good thing at this point in time given that Stiles's scent is drenched in arousal and it’s like mainlining ecstasy to Derek. After he’s sure he won’t come the second he’s inside, he takes himself in hand and lines up, grabbing Stiles’s thigh with one hand while he pushes forward, breaching Stiles agonizingly slowly.

“Derek,” Stiles gasps as the head pops in, his fingers reaching, grasping for Derek’s arm, finding purchase and hanging on weakly as he slides all the way in.

When he’s flush with Stiles’s ass, he bends forward and kisses him gently, pulling back only a scant inch as he begins rolling his hips into Stiles, fucking him slow and deep. Stiles hangs on to Derek’s shoulders, fingers flexing every time he slides all the way back in. It’s intense, intimate in a way they’ve never been before, that he’s never allowed them to be because he knew if he had Stiles like this, then he’d never be able to let him go and there was no way he’d try to keep him if Stiles didn’t want to be with him like that. He also knew that if he ever had Stiles like this and Stiles left, it would break him beyond repair.

But now he can have this, they can have this together, and Stiles is everything he always imagined he’d be. His dark eyes are hooded but locked on Derek’s and Derek can't help getting lost in the deep amber gazing back at him. He loves this man more than he’ll ever be able to say, and he thanks his lucky stars that he’s finally been given the rest of their lives to love Stiles like he deserves.

He gathers Stiles in his arms, pulling them flush, and fucks into him harder, hard enough to hear the slap of skin against skin. And that’s when Stiles starts moaning and gasping like he’s dying and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. Derek grunts as he feels his orgasm creeping in, the heat of it winding its way down his spine. He can feel it now, how close they both are, can smell it on Stiles, can hear it in his stuttering heart and the frantic edge to his voice as he calls out Derek’s name again and again.

“Say it,” Derek says, fangs descending as he turns his head into Stiles’s neck, nosing at the join between his neck and shoulder. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Stiles pants, tilting his head away, giving Derek his trust again. “Make me yours, Derek. Alpha.”

Derek lets out a deep rumble and sinks his teeth in just deep enough for the claim to take but not to turn. That’s a conversation for another day.

Stiles screams then, not in pain, but in ecstasy, as his scent gives off nothing but happiness. Derek’s heard that a claiming bite is intense, and if Stiles is anything to go by, then the rumors are true.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god, fuck,” Stiles groans as he claws at Derek’s back and bucks against him, body tight and smelling of pleasure as Derek feels Stiles's cock twitch against his stomach and leak precome between the two of them.

Derek doesn’t let go, doesn’t take his teeth out, but holds on as he feels his knot grow.

“Oh my god, you weren’t kidding,” Stiles says, a hint of apprehension in his voice and scent as Derek pushes harder, shoving into Stiles with enough force to shake the bed and slam the frame into the wall.

He wants to tell Stiles to relax, to let it happen, but he’d have to let go of the bite and he’s not quite done with that yet. Instead, he gentles his thrusts, grinding and rolling into his mate instead of trying to force it. It seems to do the trick as Stiles takes a deep breath and then his body gives way to Derek’s knot.

Derek nearly howls at the feeling of being tied with Stiles. It’s beyond anything he’d ever imagined. The tight heat of his mate consumes every nerve in his body until it explodes out of him, his orgasm hitting him so hard he whites out, ears ringing with the sounds of Stiles swearing and crying out his own release, hot channel squeezing around Derek's knot tight as his mate jerks against him and spills between them.

When Derek comes back to himself, Stiles is petting him, stroking his fingers lightly across Derek’s shoulders. And that’s when Derek realizes he’s still laying on Stiles and almost started drooling on his shoulder. He jerks his head up, eyes going from where he bit Stiles, the skin turning pink and healing right before his eyes, leaving the impression of his wolf teeth for all other wolves to know that he’s mated, to Stiles’s handsome face, taking in the relaxed, sated, happy look that he hasn’t seen in far too long. Stiles’s cheeks are flushed pink, his lips shiny and red and looking so soft, and his eyes are bright, focused on Derek, tracking his every move.

Stiles shifts his hips and squeezes around Derek’s knot, pulling a groan from Derek’s throat as his cock pulses out more come and pleasure twists in his gut, making him shudder on top of Stiles. He meets Stiles’s eyes and the cocky little shit is smirking at him like he knew exactly what he was doing. Derek would not be surprised in the least to find out that Stiles researched everything he could about werewolf mating and knotting and exactly how to bring Derek to his knees for him.

“So, this is real,” Stiles says quietly, softly, hands still stroking Derek as he holds him.

“This is real,” Derek confirms.

“We’re, like, werewolf married now?” Stiles asks and Derek catches the uptick in his heart, scents the hope coming off of him.

“We’re mated,” Derek says. “It’s stronger than that.”

Stiles pulls Derek down for a kiss and Derek goes with it, wanting to kiss his mate just as badly.

“I know I’ve never said it before, but I’ve felt it for a long time now, probably since high school, maybe, and I--”

“I love you,” Derek says quickly, cutting Stiles off.

“My line,” Stiles says with a laugh and a smile. “I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I hope I didn't portray Stiles as weak. That wasn't my intention. Rather, I wanted him to reflect different people I've known in bad relationships that either just didn't realize it or didn't think it was as bad from the inside until they got away or saw it from another angle.
> 
> It's not perfect, but sometimes you just have to stick stuff out there. It's a bit hard for me because I tend to hoard my fics and other things I write. I want to be one of those writers that churns out fics like clockwork. I'd love to be one of those writers, and I think if I stopped getting in my own way and agonizing over every little detail, I might become one of those writers one of these days. I think that'd be so cool.
> 
> Again, this is my first foray into the TW fandom, officially, so if you liked what you read, I'd love to hear it! 
> 
> Thank you guys! ^_^


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